Night of the Dragon

by Julie Kagawa

  The demoness stared at me. “Yumeko,” she whispered. A tremor went through her, and the raised talon slowly dropped. “That...that was her name,” she whispered, as if in a daze. “The name I wanted to give her, the name I had chosen for my baby. Yumeko. Child of dreams.” She swayed, talons opening and closing, as if unsure of what to do. Behind the mask, her gaze shifted to me, eyes narrowing. “Why?” she asked, the faintest thread of anger nestled deep in her voice. “You were gone so long. I mourned you for so long. Why did you never come back?”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. The reasons rose to my tongue—I didn’t know my past, I had been raised in isolation for years—but I bit them down. Excuses wouldn’t placate a spirit, not one so consumed with rage and despair. “I’m here now,” I told her, meeting the terrible gaze under the mask. “If it will bring you peace, take your vengeance on me, Kiyomi-sama, and release the curse on my friends. They’re not responsible for your pain.”

  “Vengeance.” Slowly, one arm rose, crimson talons flaring wide a few inches from my head. I flinched, but the tips of the claws very gently touched my face, tracing my cheek and jaw. “I never wanted retribution,” the spirit of Kiyomi-sama murmured. “I only wanted to see her, to watch her grow, to share in all the blessings and trials life would give her.” Her other arm rose, both sets of talons framing my face, curling through my hair. “But she has grown up strong, beautiful. It is all a mother could hope for.”

  My throat closed up. And even though my heart still pounded and my hands shook, I slowly reached out and touched the edges of the Noh mask covering the demon’s face. The porcelain was cold against my fingers as I met the stark gaze underneath.

  “You’ve been in pain for too long, Kiyomi-sama,” I said softly. “It’s time to let go.”

  Very gently, I pulled. The Noh mask came away easily in my hands, brittle and lifeless. The face beneath was Kiyomi-sama’s, human except for the horns still curling from her forehead, but ravaged with a lifetime of grief and despair. Her pupils were streaked with red, her gaunt cheekbones standing sharply against her skin, all her beauty worn away. But she gazed at me with eyes that, though they still held an eternity of sorrow, were clear.

  “Home,” she whispered, and one talon rose to gently catch a strand of my hair. “You’ve come home.”

  I swallowed hard as the spirit of Kiyomi-sama began to fray apart at the edges, black soot spiraling into the air and drifting away into the dark. The talon holding up the strand of my hair dissolved, as did the hand, and then the arm a moment later. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the carpet of flowers doing the same, black petals turning to dust and rising into the air until they vanished into the blackness overhead.

  “Yumeko-chan.” The spirit was almost gone now. Just her face and a bit of her robes remained, though they, too, were dissolving rapidly. “Do not be deceived,” she murmured. “The tainted one, the soul who opened the gates of Jigoku, he is but a pawn. Everything that has happened, all the trials you have faced, the failures and victories you have claimed, it all has come together by his design. We are all pawns in his game, and he will be the one you must face at the very end.”

  “Who, Kiyomi-sama?” I whispered, feeling as if a hole had opened up beneath me. The thought that Genno, the Master of Demons, was only a pawn, that there was yet another, even more powerful enemy I had to face...it made me a bit sick inside. I was still playing all of this by ear, using fortune and blind chance to get where I needed. I trusted my friends with my life, but I knew determination and luck could take us only so far. “If he is even stronger than Genno, how will I be able to beat him?”

  The spirit of Kiyomi-sama smiled. “Be brave, daughter,” she said. “He is powerful, but do not underestimate yourself. He is part of you, after all.”

  Blinking, I watched as the final bits of ash that had been Kiyomi-sama swirled around me for a moment, then scattered to the winds. Of the spirit, nothing remained; even her robes had faded into dust and vanished. The only item left behind was the cold porcelain mask I still held.

  As the demoness vanished, the lights in the cavern flared once, then faded to darkness, the torches snuffed, the glow of the altar winking out. Shadows crept over the room, now eerily silent and empty. Only the faint, ethereal glow from a hovering hitodama kept the cavern from being plunged into utter blackness.

  Someone groaned in the darkness, and my heart leaped. Tossing a ball of kitsune-bi into the air, I hurried back to where I had left my companions.

  In the flickering foxfire, I could easily make out a dark form lying against the bare rock of the cavern floor. As I approached, it stirred, and Tatsumi slowly pushed himself to his knees, breathing hard. His shoulders were hunched, his muscles stiff, as if he was bracing himself for a sudden onslaught of agony. From somewhere in the darkness, I heard a rough, muttered curse, likely from Okame, followed by sounds of someone struggling to their feet.

  “Tatsumi-san.” I knelt in front of the demonslayer, peering into his face. “Are you all right? Are you in any pain?”

  He hesitated a moment, then slowly relaxed, muscles unclenching one by one. “I don’t think so,” he muttered. “The hex appears to have been broken...or lifted.” His gaze rose to mine, then to the cavern around us. “The kijo?”

  “Gone,” I whispered. “I don’t think she’s coming back.”

  He gave a painful nod. “Was it really the daimyo?”

  I shook my head. “No,” I mused, trying to make sense of it all. “I don’t think so. I think this was a manifestation of Kiyomi-sama’s negative emotions. All her anger, all her grief and shock and despair when she realized her daughter was stolen away. For some reason, it was drawn down here and trapped, and has been festering ever since.” I took a deep breath, driving away the lingering heaviness around my heart, the last shreds of despair clinging stubbornly to my mind. “That’s what the Kirin warned me about,” I said. “The darkness haunting this island. The sadness infecting the Moon Clan. Why, even after all this time, Kiyomi-sama has been unable to move on. It was all because of that spirit.”

  “You freed it, though,” Tatsumi said.

  I blinked at the fresh, untainted stinging in my eyes. “It was so angry,” I whispered. “So much in pain. All it knew was betrayal and despair, grieving over what it had lost. Maybe now Kiyomi-sama will finally find peace.”

  “Yes,” said a new voice, echoing through the cavern. We jerked up as silvery light flared overhead, illuminating the entire room. “I believe she will.”

  A figure stepped from the shadows, coming to stand before the shrine against the far wall. My heart leaped to my throat as I recognized him. I’d only seen him once, in the narrow back alleys of Chochin Machi, but he was impossible to forget.

  “Well done, Yumeko,” greeted Seigetsu-sama. He smiled at me, still stunning, breathtaking, even this time around. His yellow eyes glowed in the shadows, and his long silver hair glimmered like a waterfall in the moonlight. “I should not be surprised, given your bloodline. But you have done better than even I could have hoped.”

  24

  Ninetail

  Suki

  Seigetsu-sama?

  In a daze, Suki watched Seigetsu emerge from the darkness. He was smiling, his silver hair and white robes seeming to glow as he stepped from the shadows. Taka was not with him, and for some reason, this made Suki very nervous. Like something terrible was about to happen.

  The demonslayer leaped to his feet, drawing his blade in a flash of purple light. From the shadows behind him, the ronin and Daisuke-sama appeared, coming forward to flank the Kage warrior.

  No, Daisuke-sama! Suki threw out a hand, wanting to fly down and grab the noble before he could step forward and challenge the silver-haired man. The Taiyo was a fierce warrior and amazing swordsman, but she had seen a little of Lord Seigetsu’s power, and knew that he was capable of so much more. She didn’t know if Dais
uke-sama could win a battle with the mysterious man she had been following all this time, and she did not want to find out.

  “Who are you?” The Kage’s voice was hard, chilling. He took one step forward, placing himself between the fox girl and the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere. “What do you want here?”

  “Peace, Hakaimono.” Lord Seigetsu held up a hand. His words were as low and soothing as a mountain spring. “I am not your enemy. I did not come for a confrontation, merely to claim an item I left here long ago. Yumeko...” His golden eyes shifted, fixing on the fox girl, who stiffened. “Child of dreams.” He chuckled, and Suki was shocked to hear genuine affection in his tone. “You have done well. Only you could have freed the spirit of grief and rage who had dwelled here for so long. You have played your part admirably, as I knew you would. For that, you have my gratitude. But now, if you would kindly hand over the item I left behind...”

  He raised a hand, and the mask that had been clutched in the kitsune’s fingers somehow left her grip and floated across the cavern. As it came to rest in Seigetsu’s palm, a terrible smile crossed his face, eyes gleaming. In that moment, he looked like a stranger.

  “The mask.” At that moment, the fox girl sounded as Suki felt, on the verge of a terrible realization. The pieces were coming together, not enough to form a whole picture, but very close. “You...left that here.”

  “Sixteen years ago,” Lord Seigetsu agreed. “Along with the shrine, and a few special items that were tied to the birth of a particular infant. The shrine would serve as the anchor, or perhaps a beacon, for Kiyomi’s feelings of grief and loss. Those emotions were drawn here, grew and festered by the day, and eventually became the spirit you just encountered. The kami could do nothing against it because it was a manifestation of Kiyomi herself, her rage and sorrow that, over the years, became a powerful curse that shadowed the whole island. Even the real Kiyomi, though time has dulled the pain and the memories of that night, could not forget or find solace. Only one thing could placate the spirit and convince it to move on. The source of its obsession and grief.” He smiled, his gaze lingering on the fox girl. “Child of dreams. The monks raised you well. I could not have hoped for a better outcome.”

  “Then...you...” Yumeko’s face had gone the color of the porcelain mask; her legs trembled, and she sank to her knees on the stones, staring at Lord Seigetsu. The others, too, seemed dazed or stunned into silence. “You were Kiyomi-sama’s husband.”

  Suki felt numb, as if everything she had known had been ripped away from her. She had followed Lord Seigetsu, obeyed him, watched as he moved his pieces around the board—pieces that were the lives of everyone around her. She thought she had been helping the fox girl and Daisuke-sama, keeping them alive, but it seemed Lord Seigetsu’s plans went far deeper than she could have ever imagined.

  “Why?” Yumeko whispered after several moments. “Why did you do all this? Everything we’ve gone through, everything we’ve faced...coming to this island, running into Kiyomi-sama...have you been watching us the whole time? Has this been a game to you?”

  “A game, she says.” Seigetsu-sama chuckled softly, shaking his head with a wry half smile. “It has been a very long game, Yumeko,” he told her. “One that was started many years ago, before you were even a glimmer in your mother’s thoughts. And now the game is almost finished. The final play is in sight. And the last piece is finally ready.”

  He raised a hand, and the mask floated up, outlined in soft blue-white flames. “Sixteen years is the blink of an eye,” he murmured, gazing at the porcelain image in contemplation. “And yet, it can be a lifetime. A lifetime of grief, rage, hate and despair can corrupt even the purest heart and drive anyone, or anything, to madness. Even those who are immortal. All it takes is a tiny splinter, a crack in their armor, and they can be consumed.”

  The flames surrounding the mask flared, becoming almost too bright to look at. Suki flinched, turning away for a moment, and when she looked back, the porcelain mask was gone.

  An arrow floated in the air before Seigetsu-sama, flickering with soft blue flames. The pointed arrowhead was white, streaked with lines of crimson, and the wooden shaft was the purple-black of the flowers that had once carpeted the chamber. A cloud of ash and darkness clung to the arrow, tendrils of dust swirling through the air before drifting to the ground. It sent a chill through Suki just looking at it, but Lord Seigetsu smiled, his eyes glowing yellow in the flickering light.

  “Did you know that all living things can be corrupted?” His voice was triumphant, a murmur in the darkness. “Nothing is immune. Not even the Kami themselves.”

  “I’ve heard enough.”

  Raising his sword, the demon lunged at Lord Seigetsu with a snarl, his blade flaring with purple fire. Suki covered her mouth, a spear of alarm coursing through her, not knowing who she was more frightened for, the half-demon or Seigetsu-sama.

  “No, Hakaimono.” Lord Seigetsu raised his head, and fire erupted before him, a wall of blue-white flames that filled the cavern with light. Even though she was transparent and had no body, Suki could actually feel the heat, a searing, terrible brightness that threatened to burn her from existence. She cringed, darting behind a stalactite, as below her, the fox girl cried out and even the demon flinched back, shielding his eyes.

  When Suki dared peek out from behind the stone, the world fell away, and she was suddenly frozen with terror.

  Lord Seigetsu stood in the same place, surrounded by ghostly flames that cast a terrible shadow over the walls and floors around him. His eyes glowed, his robes and silver hair glowed, billowing in an unnatural wind, the eerie firelight dancing over them.

  A long, bushy tail rose behind his shoulders, swaying slowly, as if it had a mind of its own. It was silvery white, the same color as Seigetsu’s hair, and pulsed with dancing blue flames at the tip. Another followed, and another, rising like serpents to sway and coil about, until there were nine of them altogether, framing Seigetsu-sama in a halo of light.

  Nine tails.

  A chill unlike anything Suki had ever known settled over her. She knew the stories. The legends of the ninetailed fox. Of how, when a kitsune grew old enough to acquire its ninth tail, its fur would turn gold or silver, and it would become one of the most powerful yokai in existence. A ninetailed fox was an ancient, mysterious, dangerous creature, possessing the knowledge of a thousand lifetimes and the magic to rival the Kami themselves. Some myths claimed they could create their own kingdoms of illusion and shadow, destroy whole cities with fire, even call down the moon. In one of the most famous, frightening stories, a ninetailed fox had been responsible for the near destruction of the country by becoming the emperor’s favorite wife and driving him to madness. The stories of ninetailed foxes were many, but that was all Suki had thought they were...stories.

  Until now.

  Lord Seigetsu flickered with pale fire, his tails swaying hypnotically as he observed the small party before him, his gaze lingering on the kitsune girl and the demon. “I am not your enemy,” he said in a low, compelling voice. “And you are running out of time. Genno has begun the ritual to summon the Dragon. Even now he prepares to recite the incantation on the Scroll of a Thousand Prayers. It will not take him long to complete it.”

  His inhuman gaze lifted then, finding Suki near the ceiling, hovering behind the stones, and he smiled. “Suki-chan,” he said quietly, sincerely, “thank you for doing your part. For leading them to where they needed to go, for keeping them alive when I could not be there. It has been an honor traveling with you, but I fear our time together has come to an end. I have no more need of you.” His billowy sleeve lifted, one hand gesturing toward the sky through the ceiling. “Move on, Suki-chan. This was never your fight. You have no part to play anymore, and I am certain Meido has been calling you for a while now. This world is no place for the pure of heart.”

  “Seigetsu-sama,” Suki whispered, but it
went unheard in the vastness of the cavern. Seigetsu returned his attention to the others and nodded at the kitsune, who still knelt a few feet away, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

  “He awakens,” he whispered, and though his words were for the fox girl, they sent a chill racing up Suki’s back. “He stirs, and the world trembles with the movement. Can’t you hear him coming? Hurry, Yumeko. It is almost time.”

  With a wave of his tails, Lord Seigetsu erupted in a flare of brilliant luminance, the ghostly flames surging up with a roar, turning the entire cavern white. When the light faded, plunging the chamber into blackness once more, the ninetailed kitsune was gone.

  “Kuso!” An emphatic curse rang out in the darkness, followed by the shuffling of feet. “What the hell was that? First we have demons and curses and ghosts and an oni that might be Yumeko’s mother, oh, and by the way, the gates of Jigoku have been opened and Genno is about to summon the Dragon and make a wish that will doom the world. I thought that was quite enough to deal with without some crazy ninetailed fox popping in and hinting that he planned all this from the beginning!” One hand rose to the side of the ronin’s skull, clutching at his hair. “This is crazy. Does anyone else feel like the world has been turned on its head, or is it just my brain that’s about to explode?”

  Suki peered farther out from behind the stone, seeing, in the hazy light, the noble stride across the floor and slip his arms around the ronin from the side. The other relaxed, slumping in the embrace, as Daisuke murmured something only the ronin could hear. Suki didn’t know what it was, but it made the other chuckle and ruefully shake his head. As the echoes of the ronin’s outburst died away and silence fell over the cavern again, Suki drifted down to where the fox girl still knelt on the stones. She was shaking, her eyes wide as she gazed blankly at the spot where Lord Seigetsu had disappeared. Even through the numbness of being a ghost, Suki ached for her. In the span of a few heartbeats, she had discovered something about herself and her past that was absolutely terrifying. Her world, and everything she knew, had been torn apart. In her place, had she been alive, Suki wouldn’t know what to do, either.